I've woken up before the person who's imagination I am.

  Although I know that it is a rather strange thing to believe, I am certain of that fact.

  The moment I opened my eyes and spotted the foulmouthed creature dressed in grey before me, called Don, I just knew that I had a special bond with them.

  And that I'm not real.

  I'm not a human like them.

  I have no memories of my own.

  Yes I have somewhat of a personality, but that doesn't make me human.

  A dog can have a personality, any animal really.

  Yet I also know that I am not an animal.

  When I first entered this world I was filled with general knowledge I was certain that Don possesses.

  Like for example what the state of the world is like or what is edible and what isn't.

  I wonder how they subconsciously came up with my appearance.

  I certainly do look human.

  Perhaps this appearance is that of someone they used to know?

  'Book of the apocalypse', the object that must have awoken me.

  Don's loneliness must have made me at that moment they saw it.

  With memories from the world from the past returning.

  Though I do have to confess, that something about it does feel strangely familiar...

  It's impossible for me to be a ghost, I don't have any memories of living nor do I of dying.

  Don feels like someone I know the best in the world, but at the same time is a complete mystery to me, a stranger. Only someone with such a great imagination can create something like me.

  There is a strange bond between the two of us.

  I decide to try to sleep or at least emulate it by pretending to be.

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  Strangely enough, the floor feels cold and the only thing I see as I close my eyes are the many hungry mouths of the creatures that had tried to eat my creator.

  I can see them rip apart people screaming in agony. Enjoying themselves with their bloody feast.

  Quickly I open my eyes again.

  This is going to be a long night. I think to myself, while wiping the imaginary sweat of my forehead.

  Quietly I start to look throughout the room.

  I can see the ruins of a city outside of the clock's window.

  Sometimes I can spot something moving around.

  It must be one of them.

  What even would they be doing moving around at this hour?

  Going after scurrying rats perhaps?

  I turn around and walk back to my creator.

  Don's holding the book as they're deep asleep.

  Have they already read it before?

  Or do they need to hold something close to them, like a child might need a teddy bear to sleep?

  They do seem quite young.

  I wonder what they've all been through.

  It must be really bad.

  Where could they want to travel to? Is another question that's on my mind.

  It's clear as day that Don is trying to either run away from something or on their way to reach something or someone.

  Could it be that Don is still searching for the humanity that has been lost so many years ago?

  They are human after all.

  And humans need other humans in order to survive.

  This must be why I have been created.

  To act as somewhat of a 'friend' to my creator.

  Don needs my help in order to cope with all of this.

  For as far as my knowledge goes, Don might just be the only one remaining after all.

  I place my hand against my chest and quietly vow to do everything in my power to help to protect the youth currently sleeping on the couch.

  Slightly embarrassed I turn to look at them, thank god they didn't see any of that.

  Don would call me crazy for doing something like that.

  How do I know?

  I'm not sure.

  But it must be because they created me.

  After a long night I finally see the sun rising into the purple sky, colouring it light blue again.

  Don wakes up, I had noticed that they had been tossing and turning for a while, so I tried to move their coat that sufficed as a blanket, to cover them more.

  It's just a little thing, but it's the least I can do.

  Don rubs their eyes, stretches and then looks at me with a sleepy look in their eyes.

  They take out an old worn out map and mark something on it.

  So... it's looking for humanity... isn't it?

  "Good morning!" I say trying to sound cheerful, but failing miserably at it.

  "Morning." Don whispers in a sleepy repeat.

  We chat for a bit and then Don decides that it's time to eat, taking out a candy bar from one of their many pockets.

  Without thinking it through I ask: "Are you sure these will help you get through the day?"

  They look up at me: "Yes." The answer is as simple as that.

  "I see... but should you maybe look for something a little bit healthier? I don't think the ingredients on the back will say anything pretty."

  My friend looks at me for a moment and then looks at the small text on the plastic.

  "A...Sssp...art...ame..." They say, showing just how difficult reading such a difficult word is and saying it just so much more.

  "That... doesn't sound very good..."

  "I guess..." Don shrugs and throws the thin wrapper onto the floor.

  Quietly they stand up from the couch.

  "We... should... go." They say, nodding to me. Probably signalling that I have to check if the coast is clear.

  God, I hope Don is really aware of the fact that I am their imaginary friend and nothing else. Because it doesn't really show.

  Carefully I peek my head right through the small door we entered.

  The monsters from yesterday have gone completely.

  Were they the ones I had seen running around outside last night?